<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>i'll light the fire (put it out with blood) by yutamatic</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25375381">i'll light the fire (put it out with blood)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutamatic/pseuds/yutamatic'>yutamatic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Royalty, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, M/M, Prince!Jaehyun, Swordfighting, more tags to be added along the way, prince!doyoung, slow burn?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:27:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25375381</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutamatic/pseuds/yutamatic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s meant to hate Doyoung, Doyoung’s meant to hate him, and it won’t change. It hasn’t for years.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i'll light the fire (put it out with blood)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for k &lt;3 happy birthday i hope you enjoy this</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing Doyoung does when he steps onto the stone pavement from his carriage is challenge Jaehyun to a sword fight. </p><p>Of course Jaehyun accepts - though he can see Johnny send a disapproving look at him in the corner of his eye. </p><p>“Meet me <i>there</i>. Fifteen minutes.” he says anyway, voice smooth with a hint of challenge. Doyoung doesn’t verbally reply, doesn’t even nod. Just narrows his eyes in acknowledgement. He doesn’t waste air on Jaehyun. </p><p>Jaehyun turns, red cape brushing his ankles as he goes back into the castle.</p><p>“Jaehyun,” Johnny’s at his side. </p><p>“I know what I did.” he replies as they walk through the corridors. He smiles at the handmaidens they pass by. </p><p>“You know you shouldn’t have.” Johnny says. He’s usually all jokes and leather and hard work, Jaehyun’s best friend and second in command when he becomes king, but right now he’s serious - <i>pissed</i> even. </p><p>But he’s not the only one who’s mad. </p><p>His mother will be furious. Jaehyun can already hear him scolding him since she hates when he gets involved in duels.  She’s incredibly worried, he knows, because she doesn’t want to almost lose her son again. </p><p>She’ll be especially mad this time though. The summer ball is next week and he has to be pristine and overly handsome and free of blemishes for the princesses attending, and most importantly, for his <i>betrothed</i>. Jaehyun hasn’t seen her since last summer. </p><p>He pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind.</p><p>“It won’t be like last time.” he says. </p><p>“You don’t know that.” Johnny narrows his gaze. “It was terrifying! We almost lost you!” </p><p>Jaehyun tries not to wince at those words. He keeps walking.</p><p>They get to the back of the castle, setting a foot into the backyard (that’s just grass that spans for hundreds and hundreds and acres). If Jaehyun squints, he can see his destination.</p><p>He walks across the grass with no haste. It’s warm, but it’s not unbearable nor is it humid, and the light summer breeze brushes his cheeks and tousles his perfect hair a little. </p><p>“I’m staying nearby.” Johnny says. “I’m worried, Jaehyun.”</p><p>Jaehyun turns his head to finally look at him. The worry is evident in Johnny’s eyes, but there’s a hint of sadness mixed into it too. </p><p>“I appreciate it.” Jaehyun says. A tinge of guilt settles in his chest. “But I’ll be fine. I promise you.” </p><p>“You better keep that promise.” </p><p>And then they arrive. It’s the same as Jaehyun remembered it. There’s no door, just an archway on a cracked stone wall, and other runned down stone walls that create a rectangle shaped room. </p><p>Johnny crosses his arms and leans against the wall. “Scream really loud if you need me.” </p><p>Jaehyun smiles. “I will.” </p><p>He takes a deep breath before he walks in. </p><p>The wooden roof is weathered and falling apart, little pieces succumbing to gravity and dropping onto the dirt floor. Jaehyun remembers getting splinters whenever he fell or wasn’t careful enough. </p><p>This was the unfinished work of his father, his mother once told him. This place was supposed to be something she didn’t know, but it was never finished since his father passed. </p><p>The skeleton of a room has been Jaehyun and Doyoung’s designated dueling arena ever since they first met. Jaehyun was eight, Doyoung was nine, and they would spar with their wooden swords and kick dirt into each other’s faces. </p><p>He unclasps his cape and lays it on the ledge of what was supposed to be a window (it’s just a huge hole in the wall) because his mother would end him if he tore it. </p><p>He starts doing some stretches to warm up and looks around. He grimaces when he sees blood on the wall across from him. It’s his own blood - it’s dark and dried now, stained onto the stone. He looks down at the soil and he can’t repress the shiver that runs up his spine. </p><p>
  <i>Puddles of blood in the soil. A blade dripping with red as his vision fades in and out, fuzzy at the edges.</i>
</p><p><i>Not being able to breathe.</i> </p><p>Jaehyun blinks and shakes his head and pushes all that to the back of his mind. </p><p>He unsheathes his sword and watches the hand-crafted blade glitter under the sun rays filtering in through the hole in the wall. It’s pretty with no scratches or rust, but he thinks it would look better with some blood on it.</p><p>Doyoung walks through the archway with perfect posture. He stops a few feet away from Jaehyun and draws his sword without saying a single word.</p><p>But he doesn’t have to say anything. Jaehyun can see it in his eyes - the fire fueled by hatred, honor, and pride. It’s flared up more overtime, what’s behind it becoming more and more prominent through the years. </p><p>He swings at Jaehyun first, with grace and ease. </p><p>Jaehyun steps back, the tip of Doyoung’s sword missing his chin and he feels the adrenaline spike in his veins. He takes a few more steps back as he parries the next ones, and the clanging sounds of their blades are awfully familiar to Jaehyun’s ears. </p><p>Doyoung’s moves, despite looking elegant, are calculated and sharp. There’s always an intention behind them - Jaehyun knows this from years of dueling with him.</p><p>Doyoung’s next swing is high and forceful, aiming to slice Jaehyun’s neck. It makes Jaehyun slide on the dirt as he counters it, heels hitting the wall behind him.</p><p>He hisses at the pain of the uneven stones jabbing into his back. Jaehyun’s own sword is dangerously close to his adam’s apple, Doyoung’s sword still pushing against it. </p><p>Their faces are close, the only things separating them are their swords. Doyoung’s gaze burns holes into Jaehyun’s soul, and Jaehyun can feel his breath against his lips. </p><p>Jaehyun smirks. </p><p>
  <i>Let’s fight dirty then.</i>
</p><p>Using his broad and stronger frame to his advantage, he shoves Doyoung back. He catches his footing quickly, as expected, still graceful, and Jaehyun goes for an overhead cut.</p><p>Doyoung leaps back, Jaehyun’s sword missing the chance to pierce his perfect, pale cheek. He twirls and deflects all of Jaehyun’s swings, and he’s fast. Jaehyun can only see the spinning silver of his cape and sword, the same color as the family crest pinned over Doyoung’s heart. </p><p>Jaehyun grits his teeth - just seeing the Kim family crest makes him want to spit into the dirt. </p><p>Their families never got along. For centuries they’ve been at war, on and off, all bloodshed and nasty and brutal. The east is full of condescension and gracefulness,  Doyoung’s <i>only</i> qualities, so they’re naturally meant to clash with the west, which is civil and rough around the edges. </p><p>Polar opposites, and Jaehyun thinks the whole ‘opposites attract’ phenomenon is bullshit. Because not once, in hundreds and hundreds of years, was there true peace between them. An alliance or an arranged marriage has never been able to cool down the boiling blood between the two kingdoms.</p><p>Doyoung swings low and leaves a clean red line on Jaehyun’s thigh. Jaehyun doesn’t feel the sting physically, but there’s a sting deep  within his scarred chest, and now he feels the hatred roll into his veins like molten lead, heavy, hot, and <i>deadly.</i></p><p>
  <i>Now we’re really fighting dirty.</i>
</p><p>Jaehyun lunges at him. Their swords clang again, rapid and rough. </p><p>Jaehyun lifts his sword high, and goes down, striking Doyoung’s shoulder. It’s not a deep cut, but Jaehyun relishes in how Doyoung’s stoic expression falters for half a second.</p><p>They make eye contact and it’s like two fires burning. </p><p>Doyoung turns, makes a complete 180 while parrying Jaehyun’s next hits. They’re going back in the same direction as before, except Jaehyun’s on the offensive this time, and he’ll make sure to back Doyoung up against the same wall he was against a few minutes ago. </p><p>Doyoung twirls, ready to deflect another strike. But Jaehyun doesn’t go for that - instead, he finds an opening, and presses the tip of his blade to Doyoung’s neck.</p><p>Doyoung freezes, visibly tensing. Then there’s a blade kissing Jaehyun’s neck as well, and their eyes meet again.</p><p>Jaehyun inhales, he’s so out of breath. He looks at his sword, resting right above Doyoung’s pulse, and he could easily kill him, right here and right now. </p><p>Doyoung could kill him too, and this could all end-</p><p>“Lower your sword.” </p><p>Each word is cold and poisonous. Jaehyun almost laughs, because there’s no way in hell he’s putting his guard down first. </p><p>He flexes his fingers around the hilt and grips it tighter. The blade shifts by less than a centimeter, but it’s still enough to dig shallowly into Doyoung’s skin.</p><p>“Lower <i>your</i> sword.” Jaehyun says back. </p><p>Doyoung narrows his eyes. He brings up his left hand, closes his fist around Jaehyun’s sword, cutting his own palm open. Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows, confused, and he’s about to open his mouth to ask <i>why the hell he did that-</i></p><p>“You wanted my blood on your sword.” </p><p>Doyoung’s voice doesn’t sound pained at all, despite Jaehyun seeing the blood drip from his hand and onto the dirt below them. </p><p>“You have it. Lower your sword.”</p><p>“Will you lower yours first?” Jaehyun asks and they meet eyes. </p><p>Doyoung stares at him, as if he’s contemplating whether or not to take Jaehyun’s life in the next few seconds as an answer. But then he moves, blade slowly coming off Jaehyun’s neck, and they maintain eye contact until Doyoung’s sword is at his side. </p><p>Jaehyun lowers his, and Doyoung takes his injured hand off of it. Doyoung sheaths his sword with one quick motion, and he turns around, silver cape swirling at his heels. </p><p>And without saying a word, he walks through the archway. Jaehyun’s eyes shift to the blood trail he left on the ground. </p><p>—</p><p>Doyoung holds his head high as he speaks to the royal court with mellow words that hide cruel and selfish intentions. </p><p>The royals in the east are good at that - <i>sugar-coating.</i> Doyoung’s the best at it. That’s probably why he’s always sent to deal with business matters with other kingdoms, which is the whole reason why he’s going to be here for the rest of the summer.</p><p>Way too long for Jaehyun’s taste, but he can’t do anything about it.</p><p>Doyoung’s way of talking is polite and charming, and sometimes (this is an overstatement) kind to anyone who isn’t Jaehyun. </p><p>But when it’s Jaehyun, the sugar melts away, and it’s all cold and curt, as if Doyoung’s spitting poison at him with each word.</p><p>So Jaehyun spits poison back, because it’s in his blood. He’s meant to hate Doyoung, Doyoung’s meant to hate him, and it won’t change. It hasn’t for years. </p><p>Jaehyun doesn’t listen to what Doyoung is saying as he rests his chin in his palm. He has to (or is more like forced to) sit through these royal meetings and negotiations, since it’ll be his duty when he ascends to the throne, or that’s what his mother says. </p><p>But they tend to drone on forever. This meeting started right after noon, and now the sun is setting. Jaehyun finds the arrays of pinks and oranges shining through the big windows more interesting than whatever they’re discussing.</p><p>“Your Highness,” </p><p>Jaehyun turns his head. “Yes?”</p><p>“The court would like to hear your thoughts on this.” it’s one of the court officials, who’s hair is on the cusp of going gray. Jaehyun can’t remember his name. All the court officials look the same and say the same things and it’s all blended together. </p><p>He takes a moment to remember the pieces of conversation he picked up on in the last half hour. Everyone is looking at him, with fondness but with expectations, like he has to say something wise and good. He’s their next king and their <i>future,</i> after all.</p><p>“I don’t think we need to build a new port at the moment. Trade is stable.” </p><p>The court hums at his reply. </p><p>“Have you considered how it would benefit the regions around you, and not just here?” </p><p>Doyoung objects to him with even words, though his gaze shoots daggers. </p><p>“The south would most likely benefit from it.” he adds on. </p><p>On the surface, it benefits the south. But the south is the east’s biggest trading partner, and the more trade that goes on there means more economic growth. More <i>wealth,</i> and by extension, the east will grow wealthier, and they’ll mostly gain from this in the long run. </p><p>Jaehyun sees right through it. </p><p>“The south is steady right now.” he says. “We will not build a new port.” </p><p>Doyoung opens his mouth, ready to counter, but Jaehyun cuts in. </p><p>“Enough on the subject.” he says, and the court hums again, obeying the orders.</p><p>The court is dismissed shortly after that, much to Jaehyun’s relief. The court officials file out into the corridor, wishing the prince a goodnight, and Jaehyun politely wishes them the same. </p><p>“Are you planning to start another war?” Doyoung’s voice is vile behind him.</p><p>“I think war is an exaggeration.” Jaehyun doesn’t turn to look at him. He takes a step towards the door and Doyoung grabs his wrist, grip hard enough to bruise. Jaehyun doesn’t struggle in his hold. </p><p>“You refused everything the court had to offer.” </p><p>“I refused everything <i>you</i> had to offer.” Jaehyun turns to face him. He feels nails digging into his sleeve as the grip tightens, it might cut off blood flow to his hand if it’s there long enough. </p><p>“Our peace is on thin ice.” Doyoung grits out. </p><p>Jaehyun looks him in the eyes. “It always is.” </p><p>Doyoung releases his wrist and pushes past him. Jaehyun catches a glimpse of his bandaged hand peeking through his cape. </p><p>“You should have died that day.” Doyoung’s voice is low. He walks out of the courtroom and doesn’t turn back. Jaehyun can hear his footsteps echoing in the corridor. </p><p>His hand goes to rest over his heart, right over his scar. He feels it beat under his palm. </p><p>“Maybe I should have.” he thinks out loud. </p><p>
  <i>It would be easier if I did.</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>